


Tradition

by absurdthirst



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Breeding Kink, F/M, Kissing, Mando gets hard for a woman that can kick his ass, Pain Kink, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, helmet comes off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:42:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24593965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/absurdthirst/pseuds/absurdthirst
Summary: Din is summoned back to the newly relocated covert. The Armorer needs him to breed someone to help their sorely depleted numbers. He doesn't see a familiar set of armor among those that remain. Where is Y/N?
Relationships: Mando/Original Female Character, Mando/reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV) & Original Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV) & Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Comments: 9
Kudos: 429





	Tradition

The covert’s numbers were fewer, and it was all his fault. The guilt ate at him. The pile of Beskar and Durasteel helmets looked up at him accusingly in that tunnel under Navarro. He saw them every time he closed his eyes.

Mando sighed and punched in the coordinates that had been sent to him via transmission. The Armorer had reached out and summoned him to the new covert.

Anxiety pooled in his stomach as they sped through hyperspace. The child was resting peacefully in his crib. He turned and looked at him. So much sacrifice for one little child. The remnants of the Empire had an interest in the strange 50 year old baby. And he was damned if he’d let them have him. Under Mandalorian tradition, the child was now his son.

****  
The covert was quiet. The children that had run around laughing in the sewers of the lava planet were sitting meekly. There was a profound air of sadness that clung to them. He wondered how many of them had lost their Buirs when they had come to his aid. His heart clenched at the thought, fists tightened as he moved silently through the caverns of the mountain.

He had brought supplies. As many as he could get his hands on. But it wasn’t enough. Even though it was The Way to come to the aid of any Mandalorian in need, Din Djarin still felt guilty for his crimes. For turning in the bounty, for not killing the Imp immediately. And for every life his actions had cost since he’d committed the sin of not protecting a foundling.

The back of the large cavern used for gatherings was a tunnel that would lead to sleeping quarters, the other tunnel held the image of a mythosaur over the arched passage. The way to the forge and the Alor of the covert. Thankful for the Beskar that the emotions that were running riot over his face, he paused.

Pressing a single button on his vambrace the floating pram that had been silently following him stayed still, it’s shuttered hatch opening to reveal the child.

The children that had been so silent started to creep forward, their helmets masking what Din knew to be wide eyes as they looked at the child. Visors turned towards him, silently asking for permission as inky black eyes darted and tiny teeth flashed as the child cooed. His large green ears perked up as he realized he was looking at other children, the excitement evident in his happy trill.

Din nodded slowly, barely tipping his own helm down before the children plucked the child from the pram and there was noise echoing in the hollow chamber. The sounds of joy.

He knew the child would be safe with the other children. The few adults that were standing around all worked together to watch over the young ones. He closed his eyes at the guilty thought that there should be more of them.

****  
The forge was not yet lit. Still in the process of being reassembled in its new home. The familiar presence of the golden helmeted Armorer was soothing, as was her greeting.

“From the ashes of old, new strength will rise.” Her melodic tone still held no rebuke, something that Din knew he deserved.

“I have brought supplies.” Din said, gesturing toward the tunnel. “I wish to help in whatever way that I can.”

The Armorer nodded. “That is good. But there is more that is required of you.”

Din immediately responded. “Whatever is necessary.” His modulator crackled with conviction.

There was a pause as he waited for the woman to tell him what was needed. She knew the value of silence, and he stayed still as she observed him. There was no need to fidget, whatever the covert needed from him, he would give without hesitation. He owed them that.

“Our numbers have been severely weakened.” Din’s head tilted down slightly in shame at her words. “It has been decided that we will revert to the methods of old to insure our survival. You will choose a breeding partner.”

He sucked in a breath, drawing back in surprise. It was an old tradition. One that had not been used since the fall of Mandalore, and it had not been put to use in his covert. A woman to bear his seed, ensuring that there were Creed born children.

He immediately thought of her. Those few, yet tantalizing interactions they had. Watching the teal colored durasteel of her armor gracefully move as she fought an opponent much larger. Because he was away so often, they hadn’t spent as much time together as he had wished. But every time he had come, he looked for her.

He….hadn’t seen her. Din’s heart fell. The few that had been gathered in the large cavern hadn’t included the familiar blue-green armor. She was always visible whenever he had ventured down into the sewers. The idea that she might not have survived his mistake tore into his already wounded heart.

The Alor turned towards the doorway as a woman entered. Din’s visor followed the Armorer’s to the newcomer. He blinked as he watched her move towards them, a large parcel in her hands. Had they brought civilians with them to help care for the foundlings? Were their numbers that low?

She was beautiful. Moving gracefully as she came towards them. Skin unblemished and eyes bright as they widened at the sight of him. He supposed that the unpainted armor seemed impressive, even if she had been surrounded by Mandalorians for the past few months.

He opened his mouth to ask about Y/N. The need to know what had happened to her overriding any other concerns in that moment. But then he realized that the woman had stopped in front of the Alor and held the package out to her.

Her helm turned towards the mysterious woman. “You are sure?” She asked.

The woman’s eyes flashed in profound sadness before nodding once. He was curious at the contents in the canvas bag that would evoke such an emotional attachment. And what would cause her to give that object up. 

She said nothing as she turned and walked out of Din’s sight. Her spine stiff with determination. Whoever she was, she seemed to be mandokarla. The embodiment of the spirit the Mandalorians had. He wondered if she had ever been exposed to those of the Creed before.

“Y/N...di-did she make it?” Din asked, hesitant even if he needed to know that answer.

The peripheral vision of the visor was not the best, so he was unaware that the woman had frozen in the doorway of the tunnel. Her head whipping around to look at the back of his head. The Armorer however, had the perfect view of the shock and another emotion that played across her face.

She didn’t answer, instead she reached into the canvas bag and removed its contents. Din’s entire body lurched at the sight of the teal t-visor helmet that came out in her hand. He swallowed down a wave of nausea at the fact that he had caused this.

A choked sob is cut off by the modulator. His head hangs low as he grapples with the idea that she’s gone. Fist curl tightly in leather gloves as he bites back the emotions that threaten to pour out of him. Sorrow and fury combining into a piercing agony in his heart.

“She-”

“Is spoken for.” The Armorer stated.

Din’s head jerked up to where the Armorer was examining the helmet, turning it in her hands.

“No!” The word was growled out, hot and angry.

“No?” The golden helmet tilted slightly as it raised to focus on him. “You wish to speak for her yourself?”

Din shot to his feet, stance splayed wide as he looked down at the Alor. “Yes.”

The Armorer had both of them in her sights. She could see the way that Y/N had reacted to Din. She had always seen the subtle interactions between the two. The carefully plotted steps they had taken during the brief times that Din was with the rest of the covert. She wasn’t surprised by his protest of another man claiming her.

Din stiffened as the Alor spoke again. “A choice is to be made, Y/N. You can accept either man without fear of alienation from the covert. Choose wisely and from the heart. For you will have many intimate moments with the man you accept as the bearer of his children.”

He turned to find her in the doorway. The woman that had handed the Alor the helmet. The one he had thought graceful and beautiful. It was Y/N.

Maker, she was even more beautiful that he could have ever imagined. Those eyes were like being caught under the clearest sky. The short cap of hair that curled around her chin looked silky. He wondered if she had worn it shorter because of the helmet or if it was just her preference. His fingers itched to run through the strands. If she chose him, he would get the privilege of breeding her. Taking her into his bed every night and creating new life with her. It was a heady thought.

She watched him for a moment, her eyes carefully blank, before turning on her heel and walking out of sight. Down the tunnel, away from him.

It was like a punch to the gut. The rejection felt worse than any injury he’d ever endured. There was no bacta patch that could heal this wound. His shoulders rounded as he kept watching the doorway that she had disappeared from. A small sigh slipped out of the modulator, the impassive mask he wore hiding the devastation in his eyes.

After a long moment, the Alor shuffled behind him. Drawing his attention away from the doorway, he moved forward to lift the helmet that she had set down on the table. He picked it up cautiously and held it gently between his hands. It looked up at him, like it had so many times before when she wore it. He remembered the slightly teasing tone that had come from it’s modulator as she spoke to him.

Maybe she blamed him. The fact that it was due to him that she was no longer wearing the armor of the Mandalore. Maybe that was why she had rejected him. Walked away without saying a word to him. She hadn’t spoken to him at all, not even when she had handed the helmet to the Alor. Guilt welled up in him as he thought of the sacrifice the covert had made for his son, for him. Perhaps it was a sacrifice she couldn’t come to terms with because of him. If the circumstances were different, would he want to be with the woman that made him lose everything he had ever known?

He didn’t know how long he stood staring down at the painted helmet, lost in his thoughts. Remorse settling over him like a heavy weight. The fact that he held Y/N’s helmet in his hands proof of the consequences of those choices he had made. It wasn’t like he had made his desires known. He spent too little time at the covert to truly reveal how he had felt about the capable woman.

****  
Mandalorians loved their sport. It was common to find a group gathered around a table, playing sabacc or even more common to find them in the room reserved for sparring. Their love of fighting second to none. That was the place where Din had been captivated by Y/N.

The cheers and jeers of the crowd had drawn him to the circle. He had pushed his way through to find her in the middle. They were stripped of weapons, the objective was sport, not blood. Each armed with a stick used in practice, Y/N faced an opponent that was easily a foot taller and outweighed her by sixty pounds.

What she lacked in pure bulk, she made up for in speed and agility. Where Din was light on his feet, she practically floated across the concrete floors of their confined space. She reminded him of the red viper on Tatooine. Quick and deadly as she made each one of the other Mando’s weaknesses known. She was fighting Holt, a man that Din himself had fought several times. Always a good adversary to spar against when a challenge was needed.

His reaction to her move was instantaneous. Blood rushed south as he watched her drive the larger man to the ground. She had leapt up, running up the wall of the room, spinning around and bringing the sparring spear down heavily on the side of his neck, taking advantage of the lack of armor there. Forced to his knees, Holt dropped his head and yielded, making the crowd surrounding them cheer at her victory.

The jolt of lust Din felt hadn’t surprised him. He was always attracted to women that could hold their own. Even better if they were able to kick his ass. It kept things interesting, and appealed to the warrior in him. If he were to ever take a Riduur, she would be the one he wanted, by his side and in his bed.

****  
“You have made your choice.” The voice of the Armorer ripped him from the memory as his head shot towards the entryway.

Y/N stood there, her head held high and eyes fixed on him as she nodded. “I have.”

The golden helmet dipped down. “Your foundling will be well cared for tonight. The tribe will make sure that he wants for nothing.”

Din’s heart stopped at those words. She was there, standing mere feet from him. Sh-she had chosen him? Her hand lifted, reaching out to him with a nervous look on her beautiful face. He instinctively stepped forward, drawn to the invitation she posed even if he didn’t quite understand.

He stopped and turned around, setting the helmet back down on the table before turning to her. Her eyes were fixated on the helmet before floating back up to his visor. He saw the pain in her expression. And he understood, which made her choice of him even more confusing.

The leather of his gloves encased her hand. It was smaller than he had realized, fitting in his hand easily. Without the padding and armor, Y/N was petite. Her curves are more defined without the layers. Her body was compact, but he knew the strength that lay in her. His cock pulsed at the thought of her fighting him for dominance in bed. Those strong thighs squeezing his waist as they fucked. Pinning him down as she rode him.

Their footsteps echoed off the walls as they made their way back to the common area. When they entered, the room fell silent as visors turned their way. Only one helmet looked away. Holt. He was the one that she had rejected. Din commiserates with him for a brief moment at what the man must be feeling. When his visor turned back to the couple, Din nodded respectfully at the man and felt relief when it was returned slowly.

Y/N drew him towards the other tunnel. The one that would lead to her chamber. His heart started pounding as they moved further into the mountain. The door wasn’t much, just a canvas cloth hung over the entrance to the room. Luckily none of the tribe were easily embarrassed by the sounds of pleasure. Used to the confined spaces and realities of their existence.

She pushed the fabric aside and led him into her space. It was small, sparse. A pallet of blankets and furs on the stone floor. A small box where he assumed she kept her clothes and other items. He looked at the pallet as he felt himself start to harden. Imagining her sprawled out under him on the pile of furs, her voice bouncing off the walls as he drove into her.

Her hand slipped out of his as she walked over to the box. Kneeling down and opening it to pull out a black strip of cloth. His pulse quickened as he realized why she was getting it.

“Why?” It wasn’t what he had meant to say. But the need to know why she had chosen him was insistently pressing in the back of his mind. “Why me?”

She looked at him before closing the chest, getting slowly to her feet and walking towards him. Her eyes locked onto his through the visor. His body trembled as she came closer. Only when she was having to look up at him, did she stop. Mere inches from him as she explained.

“You saw me before I removed my helmet.” The words were low, but clear. The unmodulated voice was sweet and the words sincere.

He thought back to all the small conversations they held. No more than a few sentences at a time. The teasing comments made in passing. The silent looks shared. She had felt that connection. It wasn’t just a one-sided thing. His breathing sped up as he felt euphoria weave through the very fiber of his being.

Those words sealed his decision. It had been in the back of his mind the moment the Armorer had told him of choosing a breeding partner. Mandalore tradition allowed very few instances where his face could be revealed to someone. A partner qualified, and he wanted Y/N to see him. Just as he saw her now. Bare and vulnerable with every emotion running over his face as he touched her for the first time. For her, Din was going to remove his helmet.

He took the scrap of fabric from her, letting it fall to the floor. A question rose on that beautiful face which turned to surprise as he slowly raised his hands to the sides of his helmet, reaching for the locks.

“Din-” Grabbing his hands, she tried to stop him.

“There is no break to the Creed with a partner.” His modulator rasped out the words. “We are one in the creation of new life. The privilege of seeing the features that could be passed to our children is yours alone.”

That sweet little mouth opening in surprise. The “o” shape making him eager to mold his lips to hers. To indulge in the first kiss he would ever have. He moved from under her hands, grasping her wrists and guiding her fingers to the latches that would release the mask he showed the world.

He swallowed, nerves making him shudder slightly as the click was loud in the room. The slight hiss of air as the seal was broken. She looked up at him once more, asking permission to remove the most sacred symbol of their shared religion. The same symbol that she had removed permanently months before. He dipped his head forward in submission as he slowly knelt down in front of her.

Her gasp at his gesture warmed him. He was telling her that he was hers, to do with what she will. Totally giving over himself to her. Her hands trembled on the sides of his helmet as she slowly lifted it off of his head.

If he had known he would be revealing himself to her, he would have taken more care with his appearance. Would have scraped the patchy hair from his jaw, rather than just brushing his teeth before putting his helmet on. He knew that his hair was plastered all over, unruly and in need of a cut as it curled over his ears and at the base of his neck.

She knelt down, setting the helmet reverently down on the stone floor as her eyes raked over his face. He had never thought his features were anything special, but she was looking at him like she was stunned by the sight of him. He willed himself not to flinch when she reached for him.

It was gentle, the warm palm on his cheek. His eyes closed as his skin went into sensory overload at the foreign touch. The pads of her fingers traced him. Running over his brow, down the sharp curve of his nose, along his jaw before lightly running across his lips. He couldn’t help but part them, a soft sigh escaping him.

He opened his eyes and he reached out quickly. Pulling her to him as they both knelt on the hard floor of her room. His eyes searched hers rapidly, breathing unsteady as he waited. She looked down at his mouth before meeting his eyes again, her answer boring into him.

He tilted his head so they didn’t bump noses. His mouth inexpertly but eagerly slotting over hers. At the first touch, he was lost. Groaning into her as he fereverly tried to taste as much of her as he could. Her lips parted and heat licked at his groin as her wet tongue touched his. Her gasp into his mouth was the best thing he’d ever felt. The very air from her lungs being breathed into him. Her fingers curled around the edges of his chestplate, pulling him closer to her as his own arms came around her to keep her there.

Long minutes passed as they continued to kiss. Shifting and moving clumsily as they learned this new dance together. She wasn’t any more skilled than he was in this department. Even if neither of them were innocent or pure in a sexual sense. Mandalorians fucked. It was a universal truth. There was no shame in engaging in carnal delights, no woman expected to be a blushing virgin when they took a riduur. Anyone who sought to shame another for sexual activity or preference were quickly dealt with.

When they finally came up for air, each one of them were trembling with need. He pulled away slowly and stood. Offering Y/N his hand, he pulled her to her feet and guided her hands back to his armor.

“Undress me.” It wasn’t a demand, but a plea. His brown eyes imploring her to strip away his layers and reveal him to her sight and touch.

She worked quickly, nimble fingers working the magnetic latches and setting the armor to the side. Din removed his gloves, tossing the thick protection to the side as he let his hands drift over her clothed form as she moved around him. Those graceful motions reminding him of a dance, seen from afar, but never participated in.

He helped with his boots, toeing them off and kicking them away as he looked at her hand on the clasp of his pants. He knew she felt him, hard and wanting beneath the duraweave and base layers. Her eyes flashed hot as she flicked the button open. Muscles rippled as he shuddered, the pressure against the tip of his length relieved just a bit. Her knuckle dragged against him wickedly as she lowered the zipper. He bit his lip to hold back a moan at the trailing pressure.

The quirk of her lips told him she knew exactly what she was doing. Delight sparkled in those eyes as she looked up at him with a hooded gaze. Teasing and testing his patience as his chest heaved. It was burning, the low need in his gut. The desire to see her bare, without the distorted view of his visor. To drink in the image of her naked and taking him. His fingers curled into his fists as he felt his pants being yanked down.

He was watching her as she pulled away the last layer. His cock springing out of the base layer to bob proudly, curving up towards his navel in excitement. He felt a bit smug as her eyes widened slightly, lips parting as she inspected him. He knew that he could satisfy her, never having left a woman wanting before. But to see the anticipation and lust building in her eyes as they raked over him made him want to bury himself in her immediately.

“Din-”

“My turn.” He reached for her. Hands running down her arms before reaching the hem of her shirt.

He swiftly yanked it up, pulling it over her head. The narrow breast band she wore couldn’t hide the bounty beneath it. His fingers were eager as he tore at it, needing to see her lushness in its raw form. They were perfect as they spilled out of their confines. Tight nipples that begged for his mouth perked in the cool air of the caves. He had always wondered if sucking on them felt good to a woman. But even more than that, he saw his child at her breast, nourishing themselves on her milk. His cock throbbed at the thought.

He weighed them in his hands. Heavy and rounded, Din brushed over the peaks before letting his hands explore the firm stomach that would soon round with his child. He knelt down, removing her shoes and reaching for the loose pants she wore. His hands followed the material as it fluttered to the floor, trailing over the outside of her thighs and trim calves. Her feet were tiny, matching the rest of her.

She was a goddess. Nude, she was breathtaking enough to bring a man to his knees and Din was already there. And he was free to touch her, to put his hands on her body and claim her as his own as she claimed him. As much as he didn’t deserve her, he was honored that she had chosen him.

It shouldn’t have surprised him that she lunged at him. He tumbled back, caught off guard from the suddenness of her attack. Landing on the pile of furs and blankets, he responded, grabbing her arms to defend himself.

When he caught her grin, heat surged to his cock and he started to drip precum. She wanted a fight for control. Maker, how was she so fucking perfect for him? He groaned as he rolled her over, their bodies twisting together as they wrestled.

He was at a distinct disadvantage, his cock pressing against her stomach as she locked her legs around his. Distracting him with the fact that she was wet, the heat from between her thighs and the slick skin rubbing on his thigh. Her grunts and groans as they fought for control making him shudder with need.

Those hands were quick, breaking his hold on her and bending his joints back. Just to the edge and making his breath catch in a combination of pleasure and pain. Her grin was dangerous as her hips canted up and she rubbed herself wantonly on his thigh. His head shot down between them, watching her cunt drag over the sparse hair and breadth of his skin. And she took advantage of his lack of clarity.

WIth a twist and a harsh grunt, Din found himself on his back, arms and legs locked. He struggled under her, but she had truly bested him. With a slight nod, he yielded in their intimate skirmish. And enjoyed the view as she rose above him, breasts swaying enticingly as she unfolded her limbs from his.

“You win.” He growled. “I’m yours to use as you will.”

Delight lit up her face. Y/N leaned forward and captured his mouth with hers in a soul searing kiss. Straddling him as she pressed herself against him, his cock sliding between the slick folds of her sex and wetting the underside of his length. He moaned against her lips, his mouth chasing hers as she moved it down his neck.

His eyes shot open wide and his entire body jolted when that mouth latched onto his neck. He’d never had anyone suck at his skin before. All sexual encounters hurried and just baring his cock for them. His eyes rolled back as she continued, feeling the blood vessels breaking at the harsh pressure. Marking him as hers, a signet he would proudly wear beneath the layers that kept him hidden from the world. Just as he would mark her as his, the vivid bruises clear for the world to see that they were one. The mythosaur amulet that she wore around her neck brushed against his skin, and soon a mudhorn would join it on the leather cord.

When she pulled back, he expected her to lift up to position him. Instead he was left confused as she got off of him. He raised up to his elbows, watching as she turned away from him. Excitement curled in his gut as she got onto her knees, leaning forward to give him a fantastic view of that round ass, the plump lips of her cunt peeking out from underneath.

She turned to look back at him. Her expression hot and needy as she jerked her head, beckoning him. Fuck. She had won and she was relinquishing control to him. The primal need to take her ripped through his body.

“Take me, Din.” She voice was low, lusty as it made him shiver.

“I-I won’t be gentle.” He warned, scrambling up to crawl towards her.

She scoffed, a scornful look on her face. “I’m not laandur. You won’t break me.”

No, she wasn’t fragile. She might look delicate, but she had proven that she wasn’t. He had never wanted to fuck someone as bad as he did in that moment. Every other encounter had been measured, controlled as to not hurt his partner. Mandalorians were….enthuastic when it came to fucking. He hadn’t encountered many he was willing to go full tilt with before.

His hand landed roughly on her ass. The sharp crack echoing off the stone and mixing beautifully with her cry. “No, I won’t break you” He agreed. “I am going to make you scream loud enough for the entire cover to hear.”

Another moan ripped through her as he smacked her ass again, moving behind her to brush his cock up and down her slit. Those hips wiggled back, enticing him until he captured them in his grip. He knew she would wear bruises on her skin, finger marks from where he had dug into her. At that moment, he didn’t care.

Din surged forward. Impaling her with a hard, swift drive into her channel. Her head ripped back as her yell filled the air. Her cunt clenched down on him, tight and pulsing as he pushed against the entrance of her womb. He hissed at the sensation of her heat around him. That cunt just as petite as the rest of her, stretched out around his girth.

He looked down, growling in satisfaction at the sight of his cock sunk into her. His hips firm against her ass as he tried desperately to give her a moment to adjust. Not that she was going to let him go easy on her.

“Move.” The strangled word came out of her as she started moving, rocking back against him.

She was going to fucking kill him. He knew it. He pulled back and surged forward again, grunting as her body sheathed him again. She mewled like a loth cat as her head lolled forward, dropping between her shoulder blades.

He repositioned his knees and set a hard pace. The rhythmic slapping of his hips against her ass filled the room as he tried to drive into her a bit harder each time. Her fists were bunched up in the furs, nails digging into them as she demanded more. Her hips coming back to meet his ever thrust eagerly.

He’d never fucked someone so uninhibited. Her cunt got wetter with every punishing drive into her. Her mewls of pleasure became a cry when he hit deeper inside of her. He knew it had to be almost painful, as hard as he was battering himself into her. Still she cried his name and begged him for more. It was intoxicating, he found himself getting drunk on her sounds. Pistoning his hips harder as he sought to hear more.

It was wet. The sucking sound of his cock as it dragged in and out of her cunt. Her walls fluttered desperately around him as he fucked her hard and quick.

“You're gonna come?” He panted, fingers digging into her hips as he slammed into her again. “Come all over me, soak me, cyar’ika.

Her head tilted back as she wailed out his name. Her body convulsing as she clenched down tight around him. He shortened his strokes, pumping quickly into her spasming cunt as he fucked her through her orgasm. The hot rush of her come washed over his cock and made a loud squelching sound with every thrust.

“Maker.” Din groaned, feeling it drip out of her and run down his shaft. There was a pool of her slick forming on the bedding underneath them. It was soaking his pelvis and coating his balls as he pounded into her. “Such a good girl for me.”

Her body locked up at his pet name as she whimpered, making him moan out her name. She liked that. His little badass warrior liked being told she was a good girl. He wondered what else he would discover about Y/N. He had his own kinks that were rapidly rising to the surface, the closer he got to coming.

“Gonna fill you up.” He gritted out, putting his hand between her shoulder blades and pushing down. Making her drop to her elbows. “Gonna look so good swollen with my baby.”

Y/N pressed her face into the furs, moaning his name as he sped up again. The change of angles making her impossibly tighter. He drove deep and knew he found that pleasure spot when she cried out again, her entire body lunging back as he struck it.

He pushed her hips down slightly as he concentrated on that area. Repeatedly scooping his hips and pounding down into her. Jackhammering into her pliant body as he fucked the very air from her lungs. She was reduced to gasping sobs with every thrust as he continued to destroy her.

“You take my cock so well, I know you’ll get pregnant today.” He growled. “That tight little cunt needs my come. Begs for me to plant a baby in you.”

Her hands flexed as she tightened around him, making him hiss as he tried to hold back on the pooling pleasure at the base of his spine. He wanted her to come undone for him again before he filled her with his seed. The knot in his gut tightened when she managed to gasp out, “Pl-ease”

“Please? Please fill you up?” He asked, panting as he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest.

His breath was hot against her ear as he fucked his cock up into her, bouncing her on his thighs. “Breed you? That what you want?” His tongue ran up her throat as she screamed out his name, her fingernails digging into his forearms as she shattered.

Her cunt became a vice around him, locking him inside her as she pulsed. Milking his release from him as he ground his hips up as hard as he could. “Take it. Take every drop.” He groaned as his teeth sunk into her shoulder.

She was still bouncing slightly, from the force of his arms, even if she wasn’t moving on his cock. His orgasm seemed to last forever as he pumped spurt after spurt of his seed deep into her womb. Coating her walls with his very essence as she greedily took it all.

With a last hard thrust, Din called out her name in a harsh roar as he collapsed back on the bedding, Y/N sprawled across him. He fought for air as his arms loosened and started running over her skin gently.

Y/N’s sigh was breathless before she started laughing. It was low, satisfied and completely languid as she rolled off of him and dropped down beside him. Her eyes were clouded with passion as she grinned down at him. “See? Didn’t break me.” She leaned forward and kissed him again.

“But you did scream.” He countered, arching an eyebrow. “And I’m pretty sure we can guarantee you are thoroughly bred.”

“Maybe we should do it again, just to be sure.” Y/N teased as she ran her hand down his body.

****

When they emerged from her room the covert cheered. Everyone who was on this mountain had heard them. The Alor came forward, in her arms was his Foundling, cooing happily to see his father again. Din rested his helmet against the little green forehead and his three fingered hands patted the steel. Leather gloves brushed the large ears gently before he took the child from the Armorer.

“It went well.” It wasn’t a question she asked. She was certain of it, especially given that Y/N was practically glowing beside him. She turned to the rest of the covert and announced. “From despair there is hope, from death there is birth. Mandalore will endure.”

The mountain seemed to shake from the raucous noise the covert made. In spite of their low numbers, they were loud and joyful. The tradition they were upholding was sacred, dear to everyone who had ever sworn the Creed. Children would be born and they would raise warriors. They would come back from this latest setback, just like they had survived the Purge. This Is The Way.


End file.
